Saturday 27 September 2014

The False Moon War: Chapter 28

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Chapter 28.  Beginnings and Endings

The wind dropped entirely.  A stunned silence fell over the survivors on the ramp.   They dusted themselves off and gathered around Welhung and Hellun.

Caneghem drew breath to speak, only to be interrupted by a fierce growl.  Surely not!  Had not the daemonic invasion been erased?

The growl was repeated.  It was Rodekhil's stomach.

"I could murder a kebab!"  the ogre declared.

Welhung considered for a moment.  "I've got my appetite back too!  'Ow are you my love?"

Hellun was beyond responding.  Indeed she was barely breathing.  Caneghem took two steps nearer to offer assistance, then stopped.  She was beyond any aid.  The stalled labour had doomed her.  She and her infant would surely perish soon.

Beyond their view, the palanquin drifted to rest above the exact centre of the Great Maw.   The empty body of the Great Slann Lord Taisteslaikch'ken, powerful wizard, respected battle standard bearer, heroic general and saviour of the world slumped off his throne and toppled into misty depths.

The Great Maw began its powerful grinding anew.  It showed its appreciation with a burp which shook the foundations of the world. 

A worthy sacrifice indeed.

*****

Caneghem had stepped a little too close to the ogre couple.  With a mighty grunt, Hellun expelled a goo covered bundle of chubby arms and legs which caught the little skink priest low in the midriff and knocked him off his feet.

"WHAT IS IT?"  Hellun demanded.

"I think it's.... an Ogre?"

"No, you muffin!  Boy or girl?"  Welhung clarified the question.

Caneghem examined the weakly struggling infant.  "Oh no!  Welhung I'm so sorry.  Your...son.....He isn't breathing.  He is doomed."  Tears gathered in the skink priest's eyes.

"Ha!  You don't know as much about ogre reproduction as you claim!"  Rodekhil barked.  "Ogre whelps don't take their first breath until after their first meal."

Rodekhil carefully lifted the infant by the scruff of its neck and passed it to Hellun.

The ogress had produced a breast the size of a stegadon egg.  The child clamped on greedily.

Joe stared, mouth agape.  The other lizardmen didn't know where to look.  Caneghem attempted to rise to his feet, only to be skittled by the after birth.

The baby eventually paused and took a deep breath.  His face crumpled.  Finally he emitted a sound.  Once the echoes of the ear splitting burp had faded away, he fell upon the breast again with the enthusiasm of a starving carnosaur.

*****

The rest of that winter was amongst the most dangerous periods in recorded history.  Warp stone dust and fragments of Morrslieb showered the globe, inflaming the rage of the beastmen and the greed of the Skaven.  Dead things which had lain undecayed beneath the surface felt the tug of the ravenous earth renewed.  They chose this time to rise to unlife, rather than be digested.

The warp stone dust stirred even natural life to mutation and hostility.  Woods, which had previously been merely dark, became hostile.  Hostile woods became active.  Active woods carried out their long held grudge against all things two legged.

The greenskin god, Gork stirred his hordes to new heights of savagery.  His twin, Mork joined in for "sumfing to do."

The four gods of chaos, stung by defeat, put aside their differences and elected one earthly warlord to wield their combined authority on the earth.  This man, Everchosen Asavar Kul, goaded the minions of Chaos to launch unholy crusade to assail the forces of order.  The Great War against Chaos was about to begin.

However, for the coming months, the greatest danger to all the races of the earth, both evil and good, was the renewed appetite of the ogres.  They launched the largest campaign of culinary conquest that had been seen since their migration at the coming of the Great Maw.

The annals of every race marked the years to follow as among the bloodiest on record, but only the Slann Mage Priests of Lustria and a handful of witnesses ever knew the true tale of the False Moon War.

*****

There was a mist hovering like a silver cloud in the timeless depths of the void.  At least it thought it was a mist.  It pondered its ability to think as it began to slowly dissipate.

The mist knew that it had once had a form and a mission.  The mist had once had a name.

"Taisteslaikch'ken."  A voice intruded.  "It is I, your spawn brother, Tecciztec."

The mist that had been the Lord of Los'tmabo'tl responded with curiosity.  "I recall a mission.  To cast a chaos moon into the dark space between stars, and to remove warp gates from the surface of a world."

"Morrslieb was neither banished nor destroyed."  the voice responded bitterly.  "Alas, the Chaos Moon remains in stable orbit about our world.  The polar gates still infect  the poles.    We have failed. "

"Failed?  Rather Balance is restored."

"Restored?  Our spawn kin were barely able to reinforce the magical wards to hold back Chaos. Daemons press harder than ever."

"I stated that Balance was restored, not that Order was restored.  That will only occur through the fulfillment of the Great Plan."

"The Great Plan remains obscure to us all."  Tecciztec's astral voice conveyed despair.

The mist was fading quickly now.  As its hold on existence lessened, it was able to grasp universal truths.

"Spawn kin Tecciztec, your role and that of Itzlatlmazah in the tapestry of the Great Plan  are known to me.  I applaud you for doing your part."

"Itzlatlmazah was lost to us with the Great Catastrophe..."

"Lost?  If she is lost then she must be found. The Great Plan demands it."

"What?  She?"

"I now see the Great Plan from its beginning to its end.  Hear this,"  Taistelaikch'ken's thoughts were fading to a whisper.   "Balance is restored.  The future teeters on the edge of a blade.  In this time even the weak and insignificant may further the Great Plan or destroy it irretrievably."

"If the weak can do this, what of the actions of the mighty?  Tell me more of the Great Plan!  What is its purpose?  Its ultimate purpose?  How are we to fulfil it?  What must we do next?  Why did the Old Ones abandon us?  Will they return?"

The only reply was silence.

Tecciztec was alone. 


"Mahrlecht!" he cried into the void.

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